


lightning in my veins

by blackkat



Series: useless porn scraps [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clothed Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Object Insertion, PWP, Sex Magic, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:52:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Salazar leans over him, brushing back long black hair, and kisses him. It’s tauntingly light, just the tip of his tongue teasing Godric’s as his lips slant across Godric’s mouth. “Why don’t I help you with that?” he murmurs, and his grey eyes are wicked. “There's a new spell I’d like you to help me test.”





	lightning in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> Technically in the same universe as _And the brave man with a sword_ , but entirely PWP.

“Did Rowena finally give you a challenge, Godric?” a voice asks, low and amused, and Godric opens his eyes, tilting his head back in the grass to off Salazar a grin.

“Rowena and Helga together,” he admits cheekily, and stretches his arms over his head, arching his whole body into the motion. The sun is warm, and the grass is cool beneath him, and he still feels pleasantly wound up, content to ride the adrenaline buzz until it fades.

Salazar chuckles, taking a seat beside his head and immediately sliding his fingers into Godric’s hair. “Helga is a terror with an axe, isn’t she? And Rowena’s improved quite a bit with a sword.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Godric jokes, because Rowena’s pride is a fearsome thing. He tips his head, watching Salazar without intent, simply admiring the play of sunlight on his hair and across his face. Salazar is always beautiful, and never more than when he’s planning something. Godric doesn’t call him on it, though, lets Salazar look him over for a long moment before he finally hums, light and thoughtful.

“You’re still all tense,” he says soothingly, traces his fingers down over Godric’s cheek. “A swordfight wasn’t quite what you needed, was it?”

Godric shrugs, more than happy to follow in Salazar’s wake here. “Not quite, but it will do. I was thinking I’d sleep in the sun for a bit.”

Salazar leans over him, brushing back long black hair, and kisses him. It’s tauntingly light, just the tip of his tongue teasing Godric’s as his lips slant across Godric’s mouth. “Why don’t I help you with that?” he murmurs, and his grey eyes are wicked. “There's a new spell I’d like you to help me test.”

 _Aha_ , Godric thinks, amused. Not that he _minds_ —Salazar is a wonderful, clever thing, and Godric is always happy to indulge him in anything.

“Of course,” he says easily, “anything you want,” and it earns him a deeper kiss, edged with heat.

“Good,” Salazar says against his mouth, and one hand cups Godric’s chin, tilting his head back until Salazar is all he can see. “Let me watch you.”

At the edge of Godric’s vision, he can see Salazar’s wand, the motion of his fingers, but he keeps his eyes on Salazar, leaving himself open to anything Salazar does to him. He’d trust Salazar with his life, and with Helga and Rowena’s lives; trusting him with his body is as easy as breathing.

“Should I be getting undressed?” he asks, amused, and Salazar laughs softly.

“No,” he says with certainty. “Just like this.”

Another kiss steals Godric’s question before he can ask it, and there's a spark of magic that slides across Godric’s skin. He moans, because it feels like a touch skimming up his flank, spreading beneath his clothes, and he can feel Salazar’s smirk against his skin, sudden pressure—

“Ah!” he cries, jerking, startled, but Salazar just laughs.

“Let me tie your hands?” he asks, and Godric gasps out a sound that’s a hazy agreement, but there's something pushing _into_ him, sliding into his body and stretching, expanding. It feels massive, and he chokes down another cry, twists even as an invisible force drags his wrists down to the earth and pins them there. It’s _still_ entering him, sliding deeper as it stretches, and Godric curses, tips his head back in the grass and tries to breathe through it.

“Sal,” he gets out. “Sal, _ah_ — _Salazar_ —”

“Shh,” Salazar soothes, leaning over Godric, and he kisses his forehead, strokes his hair back. “Relax, let it in.”

Godric groans between clenched teeth, and the thing _grows_ , wrings a strangled cry from him as he shudders. There's an edge of pain, just enough to push the pleasure higher, but the sheer press of it is so _much_ , and his body takes it like Salazar has spent hours preparing him but he almost can't bear it.

“Look at me,” Salazar orders, not sharp but still firm, expecting to be obeyed, and Godric is physically incapable of disobeying. He drags his eyes off the sky and back to Salazar, lets him see what this is doing to him, the way Godric can't quite get a breath, the dazed pleasure that fills him.

“Salazar,” he gets out, helpless, _wanting_ , and Salazar smiles.

“Good,” he says gently, stroking Godric’s hair, and the thing in Godric inches deeper, makes him twist against the bonds and wrench his face away. A slim hand pulls him back, relentless, and Salazar chides, “No, eyes on me. Godric, relax.”

Godric groans, spreads his legs but it doesn’t change the depth or the angle of the thing filling him. “Fuck,” he breathes. “I’d— _ah_! I’d like to see you relax with a damned _pole_ up your arse—”

“Clench down,” Salazar orders, merciless, and Godric whimpers but _does_. It’s _huge_ , and he feels like his body’s being cleaved in two, all of him _opened_ for this thing. It’s too big, too much, too deep, but Salazar’s burning eyes are on him and his fingers are in Godric’s hair and Godric sobs, clamps down and rides the pressure as it settles in him with a sound that’s close to a whine.

With a soothing murmur, Salazar curls over him, pulls Godric’s head to rest on his thigh and kisses him softly. “That’s as far as I'm taking it,” he promises, stroking a hand down Godric’s chest. “Breathe, my love.”

Godric takes another kiss, tries not to let his desperation show. Lets his head fall back, cheek pressed to Salazar’s stomach, and shivers as his lungs work. “ _Ohhh_ ,” he breathes, biting down hard on his lip. “Oh stars, Salazar.”

“Are you going to come?” Salazar asks lightly, as if he isn’t just as hard as Godric is.

With a groan, Godric closes his eyes, lets out a shaky breath. His clothes feel impossibly tight and constricting, and he’s hard but he can barely focus on his cock right now. All of his attention is on the stretch, sharp and so deep it _aches_ , so wide it’s like he’ll never stop feeling it. He digs his fingers into the grass, rocks back, but the thing moves with him and he sobs out a curse.

“You are,” Salazar tells him, a hand on his chin pulling him around, and Godric’s eyes flutter open of their own volition. Gentle fingers slide across his lower lip, easing it away from his teeth, and Godric chokes on a breath, jerks, clamps down. Distantly he can hear Salazar’s praise, hungry all on its own, and he trembles, tries to push back but _can't_.

“Please,” he gasps, “ _please_ , stars, _please_ —”

The force holding him open slips back like it’s going to withdraw, and Godric snarls a denial, wrenches at the ties holding him, but Salazar kisses him with teeth and force and intent. In the same moment the thing slams home, huge and _perfect_ , and Godric screams, bucks, _comes_ , like lightning right through the core of him. It feels wrenched up from his soul, massive and overwhelming, and he sobs through it, presses into Salazar’s kiss and tries not to lose himself completely.

Salazar soothes him through the aftermath as he shakes, the stretch inside him shrinking slowly until it disappears. He whines at the loss, and Salazar’s hands stroke his face, his shoulders, his chest.

“So good for me,” he murmurs, slants a kiss across the corner of Godric’s mouth. “So lovely, Godric. Thank you.”

This time when Godric goes to raise his hand he can, and he lets out a quiet, grateful sound, twisting his fingers into Salazar’s long hair and pulling him into another kiss. “I love you,” he whispers, like it’s a secret. “Stars, Salazar, I love you.”

“Beloved, you are eternally adored,” Salazar returns, because he’s always been a pretentious bastard, and when Godric snorts a little he laughs, warm and soft.

Godric turns his head, rubbing his cheek against Salazar’s thigh, and hums at the sight of his cock, a hard line under his clothes. And—Godric is entirely sated, languid and fucked out, but he still licks his lips, casts a grin back up to meet Salazar’s heated stare. “I’m all stretched out,” he says lightly. “It seems a shame to waste that.”

Salazar sucks in a breath, and an instant later a wordless spell vanishes their clothes. Godric pulls him down, laughing, to roll over the grass beneath the warmth of the sun, and kisses Salazar like he’ll never have to stop.


End file.
